


I'm Still Fond of You

by someonestolemyshoes



Series: No, It's Not Like Any Other Love [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, University, levihan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 04:51:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3475100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someonestolemyshoes/pseuds/someonestolemyshoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"As it turns out, the basic Ackerman blueprint allocates very little space for relationships."</p>
<p>In which Levi is socially awkward and Hange doesn't care.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Still Fond of You

**Author's Note:**

> Another Levihan university AU for you. Go follow my tumblr (someone-stole-my-shoes) for more rubbish, and thanks for reading!

As it turns out, the basic Ackerman blueprint allocates very little space for relationships.

Levi is a powerhouse; he is bone and muscle and sinew, a sharp brain and poised hands. He can do most anything he wants to. He has a mind for planning and precision, he is adapted and adaptable, but one thing Levi cannot do is connect.

He was never very good with words. Profanities, he can do. And insults. But when it comes to genuine conversation he would stutter and fumble and trip over his own tongue, and all he was left with was a scowl which, as it happened, was a very effective way of communicating.

It’s not that he doesn’t care, either. Of course he cares; he’s only human, after all. He’s had friends come and go; Farlan, and Isabel, and they loved him and he loved them, but the problem is that in no part in his concept sketches, in his planning and base designs, does it give him any idea how to express himself. All of his relationships; familial, friendly, and romantic alike, rely on total participation from one end, and a series of nods and grunts and hopes from the other. It’s an uneven balance, and thus far it has yet to work in his favour.

And so, when the messy-haired brunette drops onto the chair beside him, books clattering onto the work bench and a palm extended for him to shake, he does so knowing that if he scowls long enough and hard enough, it’ll drive her away, just like everybody else.

Except, it doesn’t.

She tells him he’s cute. It’s the very first thing she says, after squeezing his fingers just a little too hard and shaking his hand just a little too vigorously. Cute. And then she says,

“I’m Hange Zoe. You here for bio anth, too?”

Levi only nods, because his tongue already feels heavy and awkward in his mouth and he knows words won’t come easily. He drops his gaze to his notepad, traces over the date in the corner and waits for her eyes to stop burning holes in the side of his head.

“Nine o’clock lecture on a Monday,” Hange mumbles, and Levi hears the rustling of papers as she organises herself beside him, “absolute ball-ache.”

He chokes on the laughter that bubbles up, unexpected, because Hange Zoe, with her out-of-style glasses and the miniature library she’s dumped on the table before her, does not look the type to be bothered by early mornings. It’s only when he chances another glance at her that he notices the UV paint peeking out from the collar of her shirt, and there are two club stamps visible on the back of her left hand. The haphazard pony tail looks like she’d slept on it, and there’s a mark just below her jaw line that looks suspiciously like a hickey.

There are more people filing into the room alongside them and everyone spreads themselves throughout the desks. It’s a large theatre and a small class, and by the time everyone is seated and the lecturer is marching up to the front podium, Levi realises that he and Hange are the only people sitting side by side.

“I’m Levi,” he blurts, and he winces because his timing is truly awful and he should have introduced himself a good five minutes ago, but Hange simply beams a smile at him.

“Nice to meet you, Levi.”

**

They make it through their first lecture of the semester relatively pain free, and as they’re packing away their things, Hange turns to him.

“Do you want to grab a coffee with me? We’ve only got an hour between lectures, and there’s a café downstairs.” 

Again, he nods, and Hange smiles, slinging her bag across one shoulder and gathering the books she couldn’t fit into it in the crook of her arm.

She’s an animated talker, Levi learns. Her free hand swings with the story and her face contorts with every word. She smells, too. Not all together unpleasant; just the kind of smoky, ethanol tang from nightclubs that sticks to skin and hair and clothes. It makes him squirm to know she hasn’t showered yet, and there’s a moment, when she grabs his sleeve and drags him into the queue at the café, when he wants to push her away, but then she lets him go and continues raving on about whatever the hell it is she’s been on about for the last five minutes and he finds he doesn’t really mind her all that much. Night club grime and all.

Hange orders coffee, and Levi tea, and she pays for both and leads them to a small, round table nestled between two plush armchairs by the window. Levi isn’t used to being lead; his design is refined for leadership, for following his own path and taking whoever is willing along with him, but he finds it almost easy to tread behind her and settle into the empty seat. 

“So.” Hange begins, “Biological anthropology. Why?” She takes a sip from her mug, regret pooling across her face as the heat registers just a little too late.

Levi lifts his cup by the brim and blows over the scolding liquid, watching Hange over his hand as she tugs at her own tongue and crosses her eyes to get a better look at the damage. He shrugs a shoulder and spares a glance out the window. Medicine. I want to go on to do medicine. But casual conversation doesn’t come naturally to him, and he has to work hard to bite back the vulgar retort about keeping her damn nose out of his fucking business.

“You don’t talk a lot,” she observes, and Levi hides behind a mouthful of tea. “I didn’t peg you as the shy type.”

“I’m not fucking shy, four-eyes,” Levi snaps, and his gut clenches. This happens every damn time. But Hange doesn’t so much as flinch. Her smile widens, and her eyes light up, and she leans forward in her chair, the coffee cup wobbling precariously on its perch.

“I’m just,” he pauses, and huffs out a breath.

“You’re not very good with words,” Hange finishes for him, and he raises a brow at her. Levi nods.

“Bet you can swear like a sailor though, huh?” And she laughs, tossing her head and dropping against the back of the arm chair.

“Gateway,” Levi blurts, and Hange doesn’t miss a beat.

“Medicine?”

Levi nods. Hange grins

“Same! I just find the human form so fascinating, you know? I mean, I got offers from a couple of med schools, too, but this just looked so interesting. I couldn’t turn it down. And all of the lecturers have so much experience, it’s incredible. I bet they know so much. I wonder if they’ll tell us about real cases they’ve worked on, like, some of them have worked on forensic findings, they’ve testified in court, they’ll have some cool stories.”

“I could have paid,” Levi says, and Hange pauses in her spiel and frowns over at him. His tongue feels too large for his mouth and he deepens his scowl to cover his embarrassment. “For the drinks, I mean.” 

Levi thinks he should have kept his mouth shut.

“No worries,” she says, fingers once again probing at her stinging tongue and nursing the burn, “you can pay next time.”

**Author's Note:**

> AU Hange and Levi meeting in university for the first time is everything I dream of. I also cherish the idea that Levi struggles to articulate himself in a casual setting. He can give a god damn presidential speech without batting an eyelid, but ask him his favourite band over dinner and he’ll malfunction completely.


End file.
